


don’t leave me to bleed (the i know i'm older, but there are still monsters in all of my closets remix)

by priorwalter



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pet Names, Sleep Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priorwalter/pseuds/priorwalter
Summary: The last thing Neil remembers from the night before is that when he went to sleep, his fingers were tangled together with Andrew’s. The memory does little to soothe him now, though, as he struggles to breathe in panic because he is frozen, and there is a terrible weight on his chest.He feels a hand on his cheek, and for half a moment, Neil think’s it’s just Andrew, but then the hand’s nails scratch him. He opens his eyes, and lets out a horrified scream, for Lola Malcolm is curled over him, an unsettling, toothy grin on her face.**My AFTG remix fic for sporadichearttcollector!





	don’t leave me to bleed (the i know i'm older, but there are still monsters in all of my closets remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sporadichearttcollector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadichearttcollector/gifts).
  * Inspired by [don't leave me to bleed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593230) by [sporadichearttcollector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadichearttcollector/pseuds/sporadichearttcollector). 

> this is a remix of sporadichearttcollector's fic 'don't leave me to bleed'. sporadichearttcollector, you have no idea how excited i was when i found i was assigned to remix one of your fics because i've reread almost everything you've written so MANY times. it took me so long to pick just one to remix. i hope you enjoy!

The last thing Neil remembers from the night before is that when he went to sleep, his fingers were tangled together with Andrew’s. The memory does little to soothe him now, though, as he struggles to breathe in panic because he is frozen, and there is a terrible weight on his chest. 

He feels a hand on his cheek, and for half a moment, Neil think’s it’s just Andrew, but then the hand’s nails scratch him. He opens his eyes, and lets out a horrified scream, for Lola Malcolm is curled over him, an unsettling, toothy grin on her face.

Or, he tries to scream; nothing comes out. He can’t make his vocal cords work, nor his muscles; he’s forced to sit still and wait while Lola runs her impossibly sharp nails down his cheek. It feels like she’s opening up his scars again. He tries to make any sort of noise, something to wake up Andrew, but the sound dies in his throat. 

Lola lets go of Neil’s face and he lets out a minute sigh of relief, but her bright green eyes narrow and Neil feels the kiss of a knife against his throat. 

He cannot move.

He isn’t sure how long it lasts. Neil shakes like a leaf and lets out uneven, hiccuping breaths while he tries to wake Andrew with sheer force of will. Lola’s knife presses down _ hard, _ and he wonders if Andrew will wake up to Neil’s dead body. 

He hears shifting beside him, but he wonders if it’s too late now; Lola’s hands and knives and prying eyes are all over Neil. Andrew fists his hand in the sleeve of Neil’s shirt and he murmurs in his sleep-rough voice Neil usually loves to hear, “Neil?” 

Neil doesn’t respond. He can’t. He tries to move his hand to make Andrew open his eyes, to make Andrew do _ something. _ Lola looks over at Andrew and laughs. Neil exhales sharply, and finally, Andrew’s eyes crack open. Except, he doesn’t react to Lola; all he does is open his eyes a little wider at the panicked look on Neil’s face. Neil can feel blood running down his throat. Why isn’t Andrew doing anything?

Andrew sits up and cards his fingers ever so gently through Neil’s hair. “It was just a nightmare. You’re alright.” His voice is monotone and his face seemingly blank, but Neil tears his eyes away from Lola long enough to see the way his brows are furrowed with concern. 

Abruptly, Lola leaves; she moves impossibly gracefully from the bed to the ground and strolls away with a satisfaction in her step that makes Neil sick. He stares at the door after her, willing his body to get up and lock it, to create a barrier between himself and Andrew and her, but nothing happens. 

“What’s wrong?” Andrew keeps playing with Neil’s hair, but he uses his free hand to caress Neil’s cheek, thumbing over the ragged burn marks. It does not help. “Neil, what are you looking at?”

Neil’s chest heaves in a sob, and he finds he can move again; all at once, he sits up and throws his arms around Andrew, clinging to him as sobs wrack his body. Andrew rubs comforting circles on his back. Distantly, he thinks Andrew might be upset that he’s getting tears all over his shirt, but that thought is less pressing than getting his breathing under control. Andrew whispers, “You’re alright, sweetheart. It was only a nightmare.” 

Neil peels himself away from Andrew, just far enough so he can see his face. Andrew pushes his hair out of his eyes and waits for Neil to regain his voice. Neil wants to tell him that it wasn’t a dream, but instead, he chokes out between laboured breaths, “Lock the fucking door.” Lola could be waiting on the other side of the door. When Andrew doesn’t react immediately, Neil lets out another round of pathetic sobs. This garners, once again, no immediate reaction, so Neil starts shouting desperately, “Andrew, she’s still here, you have to lock the door, she was trying to kill me, Andrew—” 

“Kevin,” Andrew says, and Neil abruptly realizes that someone is standing behind him. He knows, logically, that it’s Kevin, but that doesn’t stop him from flinching and burrowing his face back into the crook of Andrew’s neck, hanging onto him for dear life. He hears the whisper of the lock sliding into place. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Neil hears Kevin ask, voice muffled as if he’s listening from underwater. 

“Fuck off,” Andrew replies, though his sharp tone of voice is contrasted by the way he is playing with Neil’s hair. Neil pushes him away. Andrew frowns, though it’s a miniscule thing. “Who’s still here, baby?” 

Neil’s reply is on the tip of his tongue, but then, someone starts banging on the door. He can’t tell if it’s the door to the room or the suite, but the scream he couldn’t make when Lola was on top of him finally escapes his throat. The banging only stops when Kevin slips out of the room, leaving the door unlocked behind him.

“Andrew, the door—”

“I’ll lock it if you want, but he needs to get back in and no one is out there,” Andrew says, voice low and soothing. “Who did you see, Neil?”

“Lola,” Neil whispers shakily, afraid just invoking her name will bring her back. “Lock the fucking door, Andrew, she’s right there, she’s going to kill him, and you—” He starts to stand up, but Andrew grabs his shirt.

“Lola is not, and was never here. You were dreaming,” Andrew assures him. Neil lets himself go pliant as Andrew wraps his arms around him. 

“I was awake. I saw her.” He touches his throat, expecting his hand to come away bloody, but there’s nothing. “She was hurting me, I felt it. I _saw_ her.” 

“She is in prison, and she isn't getting out. She was not here,” Andrew promises. “You’re feverish or hallucinating. I would not let her anywhere near you.” He presses a kiss to the top of Neil’s head. “Do you believe me?” 

“Yes,” Neil mumbles. 

“If I ever see her again, I will kill her. I promise,” Andrew says. Neil finds himself crying again; the anxiety and terror still haven’t left, despite the situation being seemingly resolved. Andrew lets Neil cling to him and whispers comforting words into his ear. 

The door creaks open, and Andrew clutches Neil tighter, this time anticipating the full-body flinch. “Neil, what happened? I heard you screaming,” a voice asks that Neil identifies as Matt’s. He doesn’t have the courage or energy to detach himself from Andrew just yet, though, so he says nothing and hopes his quiet sobs are muffled in Andrew’s shoulder. 

“Leave us alone,” Andrew snarls. “You can interrogate him later.” Andrew disentangles himself from Neil and climbs off the bed. Neil lets out a whimper, but Andrew returns momentarily with a knife and tucks it under the pillow. Neil plasters himself against Andrew’s chest, sighing with relief.

Neil thinks that Matt and Kevin leave, though he can’t be certain; he’s not aware of much of anything beyond himself and Andrew. Distantly, he feels pathetic, clinging to Andrew like his life depends on it and crying his eyes out, but all he feels is empty relief that he’s safe and Andrew is with him. 

Once his tears finally peter out, he says, so hoarsely his words are nearly inaudible, “I thought it was real.”

“It wasn’t real,” Andrew reminds him, pressing a kiss to Neil’s wet cheek. “You’re safe with me.” 

“It wasn’t real,” Neil echoes. 

“You’re safe,” Andrew repeats.

Neil sighs. “I’m safe.” Andrew nudges Neil until he lies down, and Andrew soon follows. Andrew holds Neil flush against him and breathes deeply and evenly, an unsubtle hint for Neil to do the same. Neil inhales and exhales along with Andrew for what feels like hours, before he mumbles, “Sorry for waking you up.” 

“Nonsense,” Andrew says affectionately. “Idiot. Go back to sleep.” 

✵

Andrew knows that Aaron and Kevin have been running around behind his back for months. Aaron does not know that Andrew knows. If he were someone else, he would crack a smile at Kevin when he makes eye contact him while sneaking up on Aaron in the library, but instead, he basks in satisfaction when Aaron turns around and panics. 

“What are you doing here?” Aaron demands, glancing between Kevin and Andrew as if one of them might magically disappear and the situation will resolve itself. 

“I’ve known for months. That’s not why I’m here,” Andrew says, and does not react when Kevin blushes tomato red. He sits across from Aaron and props his head up on his hand. “What do you know about sleep paralysis?” 

Aaron frowns. “Sleep paralysis causes you to wake up suddenly and feel unable to move or speak. Andrew, are you okay?”

Andrew is _ not _impressed with Aaron’s knowledge, but he does find it useful. “It’s not for me,” Andrew replies dryly. “What else happens?”

“It lasts for a few seconds to a few minutes,” Aaron explains. “People often hallucinate a figure standing over them or feel intense fear.” He pauses. “That explains the screaming, then. It gave Matt an aneurysm.” 

Andrew scoffs. _ That explains the screaming _ as if Kevin didn’t tell him everything as soon as he left the room. “Matt can mind his own goddamn business,” Andrew snaps. 

Aaron raises an eyebrow. “But it’s my business?”

Andrew avoids looking at Aaron, instead searching the library for a mop of messy red curls. “Aaron,” Kevin says, and Andrew pretends not to hear the emotion in his voice. “He can’t play if he’s like this. And he’s your friend.” 

Aaron and Neil are friends, somehow; they had a class together during third year, and the shared common enemy of their evil professor brought them together. Andrew does not care that his brother and his— his Neil don’t hate each other. He doesn’t care at all. He asks, “How can I help him?” 

And he _ wants _ to help Neil. It’s their fifth year at Palmetto, and Andrew is still not quite used to caring as much as he does, but he’s willing to learn. 

“It’s caused by sleeping on your back or an irregular sleeping schedule, also stress and anxiety,” Aaron explains with a pointed look at his twin. “Sound familiar?”

Andrew has tried time and time again to get Neil to talk to Bee, and he has yet to see his words take effect. “I can’t fix that for him,” Andrew says detachedly. 

“You can get through to him, out of anyone,” Aaron argues. “You’re his boyfriend.” 

“I’m not his boyfriend and I don’t make his decisions for him,” Andrew snaps, but doubt creeps into his mind. He wants nothing more than for Neil to ever experience the terror he felt the night before ever again. He has to try and encourage him to do something. 

Just then, Neil sits beside Andrew and slams a book on the table. He grins blindingly at Andrew and pops his headphones in before opening the dry-looking textbook. 

“Let it go. You’re boyfriends,” Aaron retorts. “You’re grossly in love and you’re going to get grossly married.” 

Andrew looks over and finds Neil still absorbed in the book, ignorant to the conversation going on around him, and replies, “He’s not my boyfriend. Monogamous booty call, maybe. Permanent friend with benefits, emergency contact, future husband, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Fuck off,” Aaron says. “Take out the middleman. Ask Betsy yourself.” 

Andrew is about to reply when Neil suddenly looks up and rips out his headphones. “Andrew, what day is it?” 

“Tuesday.” 

Neil checks his phone and blanches. “My abstract algebra professor’s office hours end in fifteen minutes and I meant to go talk to her but now I’ll never make it.”

Andrew does not smile at the sad, frustrated pout on Neil’s face_ . _“I’ll drive you, come on.” Andrew also doesn’t react to the way Neil tugs on his shirtsleeve and smiles like the sun before leaning in for a kiss that Andrew gives in to willingly. In the Maserati, Andrew drags Neil back in for another kiss, but Neil pulls away. 

“C’mon, we have to go,” he urges, checking the time on his phone again. He looks down at Andrew’s lap and smirks. “I promise I’ll be quick, sweetheart.” Andrew’s brain short circuits and he drives an autopilot, dangerously distracted by Neil’s hand on his on the gearshift. 

Neil does, in fact, return to the car not twenty minutes after leaving. Andrew may or may not speed home, and he may or may not pin Neil to the wall of the elevator, dragging their hips together. 

Needless to say, Neil is late for his next class. 

✵

Andrew spent a long time explaining sleep paralysis to Neil. He talked about its causes and what Neil could do to fix it, with an unsubtle nudge to talk to Bee. Neil would rather cut off his hand than have weekly appointments with her, but he did book one singular session with her to talk about medication for his anxiety. Andrew was with him, and it was only slightly terrible. 

Neil starts his medication in two days. He thought it would be quick enough, but the red-haired, blue-eyed man sitting on his chest says otherwise. 

He knows what’s happening. He knows he is imagining Nathan, because he is dead. Nathan cannot be dead and in his room at once.

But it feels so real. 

Nathan’s hands brush against his throat, and then he is strangling him. Neil tries to scream, to do anything, but he’s frozen and silent as his father’s face, an echo of his own, grins at him with unsettling glee. 

He knows it’s not real, but that doesn’t help the fact that no matter how imaginary Nathan is, Neil still feels his hands on his neck. His breath comes in short pants. He screws his eyes shut and tries to will his father away, to no avail. 

“Neil?” Andrew murmurs sleepily. Then, with more urgency, “Neil? Can you move?”

Neil lets out a pained whine and tries to move toward Andrew, but he is still frozen. It makes him feel trapped and terrified and he feels his breath start to devolve into hyperventilation, but Andrew pulls Neil against him and whispers, “It’s alright, baby. It’s not real, it will be over soon. You’re safe with me, just keep your eyes closed, that’s right.”

It feels like hours or days until the weight is lifted off of Neil’s chest. He wraps his arms around Andrew, trying and failing not to cry. Andrew lets Neil sniffle into his shirt for a few minutes before pulling away just enough so that Neil can see his face. He keeps his hand firmly anchored on the nape of Neil’s neck. “It wasn’t real, sweetheart. It’s just you and me here. You’re safe.”

Neil whimpers, bottom lip wobbling dangerously as he tries to hold back more tears. Andrew brushes his tears away and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I’m safe,” Neil breathes, so faint Andrew has to read his lips. Neil pushes his face into Andrew’s shoulder once again, not quite done crying. 

Andrew clutches Neil against his chest and murmurs, “I would never let her take you away.”

“It was my father this time,” Neil says, and another round of painful sobs tears through him. “It was him. I…” he trails off. Seeing his father’s face after everything that happened in Baltimore makes Neil feel empty and hollow. He lies limply against Andrew and tries to keep his breathing relatively even. 

“I wouldn’t let him take you away, either, though he’s six feet under where he belongs.” Andrew says quietly. "You’re stuck with me forever.”

Neil’s breath hitches, and he mumbles, “Forever, huh.” Then, more quietly, “Love you.” 

  
“Love you too,” Andrew replies, pressing his face into Neil’s soft hair. Words like  _ safe _ and  _ love _ and  _ forever _ don’t sound so far away when it’s Andrew saying them. 

**Author's Note:**

> go read the original, it's way better than my fic!!! i hope you enjoyed!


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